


Flawed

by TheRedDragon173



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Get Wrecked Thanos, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Beta Read, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Worth Issues, Snapshots, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Team Iron Man, Team Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, not team Cap friendly, other characters not mentioned in tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 09:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16115645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedDragon173/pseuds/TheRedDragon173
Summary: Tony had felt from the beginning that he and Loki might have some (or many) similarities. The more time he spends with the God of Mischief, the more he realizes just how deep their similarities run.A songfic exploring the relationship between two flawed people that have been hurt, and don't know how to heal. The song this is based on is "Flaws" by Bastille.(For the purposes of this work, I made some changes to the MCU canon. Please read the notes for details!)





	Flawed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Your Mess is Mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106976) by [kipli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipli/pseuds/kipli). 



> A few notes on the context of this work! 
> 
> 1) Very few characters are tagged in this work, because it is mostly an exploration of the relationship between Tony and Loki. Other characters appear only rarely in-action, mostly they are only discussed in the context of their relationships to Tony and Loki. Steve and Thor are the most frequent topics of conversation (excepting Odin and Howard); they are tagged because they appear in a few actual event-scenes. Peter and Strange also show up a few times and have an impact, so they are tagged as well. In addition, the following characters either appear briefly or are topics of conversation: Bruce Banner, Valkyrie, Natasha Romanoff, James "Bucky" Barnes, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Clint Barton. 
> 
> 2) I took some creative liberties with some of the MCU canon, mostly just making alterations to the ends of movies. Since I'm not entirely rewriting the content of those movies, I didn't feel it was appropriate to tag this work as not compliant to them. A:IW is non-compliant because NOPE. In summary (in timeline order): Tony does not get the arc reactor removed at the end of Iron Man 3 (with all consequences that might follow, especially for CA:CW) and the Asgardians make it to Earth without being intercepted by Thanos. 
> 
> 3) THIS WORK IS NOT STEVE ROGERS FRIENDLY. Please do not read if that upsets you. I ship Tony Stark x HAPPINESS, and I don't think Steve is very conducive to that anymore. 
> 
> 4) This work was inspired by the wonderful "Your Mess is Mine" by the amazing user kipli. It was their work that first exposed me the idea of the Asgardians getting to Earth, and a relationship developing between Loki and Tony as a result. Another work I would recommend in a similar vein, that I discovered a little later, is "In Dreams We Share" by user Nia_Kantorka. 
> 
> 5) The song that this work is based on is "Flaws" by Bastille. EDIT 30.Sept.18: The original posted work included lyrics from the actual song, which I have removed. Please listen to the song as you read, to get a feel for the mood of the work. 
> 
> 6) There are some very dark themes in this work. Please heed the tags, and be careful of triggers! 
> 
> 7) This story is a work out of order. The scenes take place in no particular order, all are a manner of the "present" for the characters in that particular snapshot of their lives. Despite this, you can consider the story as beginning sometime after the Asgardians' arrival on Earth. 
> 
> And with that... Please enjoy the work!

 

Tony knew full well that he wasn’t a great person, or even a good person. _“Iron Man: Yes; Tony Stark: Not Recommended.”_ He wasn’t a hero, not in the way people seemed to think he ought to be. For all intents and purposes, he was just _a man in a can_. On a team filled with superhumans and superspies, all noble and perfect, where the Hell was he supposed to fit in?

How can the _Merchant of Death_ fight alongside the noble Captain America? They humored him, they did, but he could see the toll it took. He noticed the eye-rolling, the frustrated sighs. Steve never liked him, not from the start. ( _“Take off the suit, what are you?” – “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” – “I know men with none of that worth ten of you.”_ ) Natasha never liked him, either. She’d gotten close _(but not close enough to really see, he would never let anyone that close, would never dare)_ , and she had seen his walls, believed them to be reality ( _“classic narcissism”_ ). Clint seemed to think he wasn’t serious enough, wasn’t _moral_ enough. Not like the good Captain America. Bruce… Bruce had tolerated him, before he had fucked off to who knows where. But in the end, with Ultron, even if he hadn’t left, Tony had known it was over. Bruce blamed him, didn’t trust him. And as for Thor, Tony suspected he reminded Thor a bit too much of another dark-haired, narcissistic drama queen with an axe to grind. Wanda... Let's not even talk about Wanda, actually. ~~(And let’s definitely not mention Pietro.)~~

Pepper was always too good for him, would never have been able to stay with him long-term. Tony was far too crazy for that. Rhodey was the same way. It hurt him more than he could put into words – they were his oldest friends, but neither one understood, neither one _wanted to_ , neither one was willing to stay.

Tony understood, really he did. He was narcissistic (insecure), an alcoholic (trying to kill the PTSD; _God_ , he would do anything to make the memories just _go away_ ), unreliable (his mind was always in the clouds, coming up with new inventions, new ideas; was it any surprise he forgot date night?), flamboyant and over-the-top (so low, so so so so so so _low_ , couldn’t that slimy voice just leave him alone?), _selfish_. 

* * *

 

Tony wondered occasionally how they had all missed it. How they had missed _all of it_.

How did the Avengers not see? They spent _so much time together_. How could they not see him falling apart, see the insecurities that threatened to tear him to pieces ~~(that already had)~~? Every night he dreamed, haunted by that horrible godforsaken _cave_. He never swam, and kept his face out of the spray of the water when he showered ( _because otherwise he was drowning, and his chest was sparking, and oh god he was going to die here, wasn’t he, and it would be his own damn fault, his own failures had gotten him into this mess_ ). He tried not to look at the stars, because when he did, all he could see was the vast endlessness of space ( _and oh god, he still couldn’t breathe_ ). That unending, unyielding emptiness haunted his dreams, too.

And now, sometimes he would wake up, gasping for breath ~~(unable to breathe)~~ , feeling the freezing cold of the Siberian wasteland turning him to ice, feeling the burn in his lungs, the pain in his heart, as the shield came down and the arc reactor shattered, and _oh gods he was going to die here, at the hands of a man he had called his friend_. (And oh, wasn’t that all too familiar?)

And after everything, the Avengers had missed this, too, hadn’t they? They’d managed to miss the sarcastic, beautiful, dangerous, mad man that could now so often be found draped over Tony’s couch, fingers brushing against Tony’s shoulders while he sat hunched over, working on his tablet. Tony supposed this was the sort of thing that happened when people didn’t pay attention. Leave Tony Stark alone for too long, and he may or may not end up sharing his bed with an otherworldly supervillain. _(In some ways, wasn’t he playing exactly the role in which they’d already had him cast?)_

* * *

Being with Loki was easy. So much easier than he had ever thought possible, so much better than he had ever believed he would be able to have. The two of them just... _fit_ together. Instead of shredding each other into even smaller, more broken pieces, their sharp edges _meshed_. Together, two broken people could form one complete whole.

They were so similar, after all, that it made sense that they could work. They could understand each other in ways that the people around them never could. ~~(On days when he hated himself a little less than usual, Tony wondered if the others had ever even _tried_.)~~

Loki could keep up with Tony, could follow his techno-babble. And while he may roll his eyes when Tony jumped from one topic to another, he could follow that, too. When Loki was there, Tony wasn’t the only genius in the room. Loki was quick and cunning, and his knowledge of magic made Tony practically salivate. Some of Tony's favorite times together were when Loki would speak of magic, and how it worked. Tony would listen with rapt attention, clinging to every word like it was a lifeline to another world. And in a way, Tony supposed they sort of were. Loki’s descriptions of magic were a gateway to understanding the world better, to improving his technology, to keeping people safe; and maybe someday, Tony hoped, to seeing worlds filled with wonders beyond even _his_ imagining.

* * *

Both of them had learned young what no child should: they would never please their fathers.

Loki spoke sometimes of being the shadow, of being the darkness accompanying the unending well of light and life that was Thor. Thor burned bright; he was loud and large, everything an Asgardian warrior was supposed to be. Loki was slight and tricky. He won his battles not by running in like a rampaging buffoon (as he would say), but by outwitting his enemies, time and time again. Whereas Thor would run headlong into the fight, Loki would play the long game and pace himself. He protected Thor for so long, fighting at his brother's back, but Thor never really repaid it in kind. Thor took his presence for granted, which only served to alienate him further.

Loki spoke also of Odin, and it made Tony absolutely livid, _every fucking time_. How can you raise your children on stories about a race of evil frost giants, all the while _knowing that_ _your adoptive son is of that race_? And how could he hide the truth from Loki? What the fuck did Odin expect to happen when Loki found out? Or did he think that Loki never would?

It seemed to Tony that Loki had been underestimated by pretty much everyone around him (except Frigga, but Loki didn't often talk about Frigga) for _his entire fucking life_. Thor and the other warriors didn't value his contributions on the field of battle nearly enough, and they certainly had no respect for the work he did off of it. And Odin, it was clear, had never believed Loki should have a throne. Though this apparently hadn’t stopped him from making it seem like Loki was very much in the running to rule Asgard. And of course: not one of them, not one of Loki’s so-called _family_ , seemed to have realized how much it wasn't truly _their Loki_ that had tried to take over the Earth.

 

* * *

When Tony first awoke with a _literal fucking hole in his chest_ , he could only gasp his terror. (There was no longer enough lung capacity, never would be enough lung capacity, for him to scream.) There were terrorists to outwit, and torture to survive, and he thought it would work, he really did. But when he flew from that valley in Afghanistan, he thought Yinsen's death had left a hole even more painful in his heart than the one inside his sternum.

Ever since then, it seemed that the arc reactor had served as a reminder. Not only of those three months of torture in that godforsaken _cave_ , but of his inability to protect and keep the people he loved. Pepper left him, because it was all too much, the stress of being the girlfriend of Iron Man. She didn’t want to be the one that they brought the body back to. Rhodey never really saw him the same way after that press conference, and certainly not after his birthday. Didn't Rhodey realize he had to have been keyed into the suit in order to operate it? Which meant that _Tony had intended for him to take it_? Apparently not. Rhodey never did thank him, or apologize for that night. Rhodey’s words ( _“You don’t deserve to wear this suit!”_ ) still ring in Tony’s ears.

Obadiah had damn near literally ripped his heart out of his fucking chest, as if the metaphorical tearing out of his heart by way of his betrayal wasn't enough. And Steve? Steve had _crushed_ it. Steve had broken the arc reactor with his shield, as it came down on his chest (again and again and again ~~, or at least that was how Tony saw it in his dreams~~ ).

 

* * *

Pepper had asked him to have the arc reactor removed after the whole mess with Extremis and AIM. He had thought about it, thought about doing it for _her_ , but in the end, he just couldn't. He went to a few doctors, people who said it couldn't be done. (He didn't go to Helen Cho, or someone else of her caliber; he wanted Pepper to be happy, but the arc reactor was a part of him. Removing it would be like cutting out a kidney; technically, he could live without it, but it would forever feel like a vital part of himself was missing.)

As he lay in that frozen wasteland in Siberia, the reactor in his chest flickering, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Pepper had been right. He would die here, he was sure of it now. The arc reactor, the marvel of technology that had kept him alive for so long ~~(so much longer than he should have lived)~~ , the thing that had tried to kill him before, poisoning him slowly _(“Palladium in chest – painful way to die.”_ ), would kill him now. It was now so damaged that it could barely keep the shrapnel from his heart, much less power the suit and allow him to return ~~home~~ to the tower. Vision saves him ~~, but Tony isn’t sure he wanted to be saved~~.

Months later, when Thor and the other Asgardians arrive on Earth, asking for refuge, Tony is happy to help. Bruce is back, though he seems to avoid Tony. (Tony overhears him once, talking to Thor; Bruce doesn’t agree with the Accords, with oversight. H fears what he might do, fears that he could hurt people again because he’s _Bruce_ , but he doesn’t want to be controlled; fears that would end in him being turned over to General Ross. Thor doesn’t seem sure, which is somewhat of a surprise in and of itself: Tony wonders what happened to the macho-man that he would even consider submitting to someone else’s control and rules. But Thor doesn’t have to be sure: he’s never gotten along with the “Man of Iron,” and Tony can tell that if he’d been there, if Thor had been forced to choose, he would have taken Steve’s side, too.)

Later that night, Tony has a panic attack on the Norwegian cliffside. _He sees the Hulk grab him, throw him away from Bucky, sees the shield come down, sees Mj_ _ölnir join it,_ and Tony ~~doesn’t~~ can’t do anything to prevent himself from quite literally tumbling over the edge. The wind whistles in his ears, and he feels like he’s flying, but in a flash of green and gold, he finds himself on his bed, back in his temporary housing. The God of Mischief sits by his bedside, raising a thoroughly unimpressed eyebrow in his direction. Concern seems to flicker across his features, and Tony wonders if he had imagined it. (He finds out later he hadn’t.)

 

* * *

Tony doesn’t talk about his father.

When Nick Fury tells him that Howard loved him, Tony wants to smash a bottle of expensive scotch over the man’s head.

Because if there is one thing that Anthony Edward Stark knows for certain, it’s that his father _never_ loved him. _(“He was cold, calculating. Never told me he loved me, never even told me he **liked** me,”_ he tells Fury, and _boy_ , is that the understatement of the fucking century. _)_

When he thinks of his father, Tony remembers only disappointment, and alcohol, and pretended happiness in front of the cameras. He remembers being ignored in favor of Howard’s search for the great Captain America. He remembers growing up in the shadow of a dead man, never able to please the man he was supposed to call “Dad.”

Any time he tried, his father told him that his work needed to be better, more advanced. So the “greatest creation” stuff on the recording? _What utter bullshit_. Captain America was his father’s greatest creation, not him. Howard took every available opportunity to remind him how much happier he would have been, if Steve Rodgers was still around instead of his failure of a son.

(His favorite had been when Howard had caught Tony making out with a quarterback when he was 16 and back from MIT. Howard had non-literally kicked the boy out of the house, and then proceeded to _literally_ kick Tony until he coughed up blood. He had also informed Tony that Captain America would never have approved, would have been ashamed to know that Tony was such a _fucking faggot_. ~~Tony now thinks Howard had been full of shit on that one, because Steve’s thing with Bucky is _so not heterosexual_.~~ )

When Tony thinks of his father, on days when he’s _really fucking low_ , he can’t help but remember Howard handing him hot things and sharp things, making Tony stare him in the face and repeat _“Stark men are made of iron”_ like a mantra. If he cried, Howard got angry, so Tony learned how to hold back the tears, how to make sure they never left his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

Tony never cries now, not even when he is alone and shaking, burning from the Afghan desert, freezing in the cold of Siberia, drowning in a bucket of filthy water, gasping for breath that isn’t there in the endless vacuum of space.

* * *

The first time Tony sees Loki in his true blue Jötun form, it is an accident. Loki had disappeared from New Asgard, and Tony had wanted to find him. They’d only re-met each other 3 months earlier, but Tony could tell from the night when Loki saved him (literally that first fucking day, and man what a day it had been) that this was decidedly _not_ the same person as the maniac that had attacked New York. Tony didn’t quite understand _why_ he was so curious (but it might have been that he couldn’t stomach any more time so close to Thor and Bruce), but he was, so he decided to go looking for Loki in the frozen wastelands of Norway.

When he found him, the sight damn near took his breath away. Loki sat, nearly naked in the snow, bathed in the soft colors of the aurora borealis fluttering overhead. At first, Tony had thought he was frozen, that the blueish tint to Loki’s skin was the result of hypothermia, and he rushed forward with a curse. The moment he got to Loki, though, he stopped short. The blue head turned up to face him, red eyes glowing in the dark. Spiraling ridges covered his skin, like delicate tribal scarification. Tony wondered if they were natural, as Thor’s voice echoed through his mind. _“He’s adopted.”_

“Problem, Stark?” Loki’s voice was ice; cold and hard and angry.

Tony stuttered, “Uhhh… I was just… wondering where you’d gone?”

Loki snorted. “So you have come seeking the outcast? What now, Stark? Will you flee back to your people, and tell them of the monster you have seen here in the snow? Will you tell them of the freak that I am, lead a hunting party to bring me down, perhaps? I promise you, I will not fall so easily here.”

It was like a punch in the gut. Tony could only stare for a moment, processing the words. The cold he had heard in Loki’s voice wasn’t just anger, he realized, but _fear_. Fear of rejection, of revulsion. This was Loki’s true skin, he was sure, and with startling clarity he realized that the barbs in Loki’s voice, sharp as the God’s daggers, were a defense. Tony could relate to that.

“Nah. Pretty stupid to hunt something in its natural habitat.”

Red eyes narrowed dangerously, and the corners of Loki’s lips curled up in a snarl, revealing sharp teeth. _Jesus Christ, could I actually have said anything stupider?_

“That’s… fuck, that’s not what I meant.”

“No? Then what, _exactly_ , did you mean, Stark?” The temperature seemed to fall even further, and Tony wondered whether that was Loki’s doing. Seeing the ice beginning to solidify in Loki’s clenched fists, he thought it might be.

“I just meant… You know what, never mind.” Words were failing him, as they always seemed to do only in the most crucial of moments. Put him in a room full of politicians and celebrities, and he could schmooze millions out of them for charity; confront him with any sort of personal, _feelings_ -related issue, and Tony felt like a first-grader trying to solve _p=np_. “Look, I was just wondering where you’d gone, and when I saw you out here, I thought you’d fucking frozen or something, and I got worried. Just… just forget about it.”

Loki’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open for a moment before he seemed to collect himself, looking up at Tony suspiciously. “You were… worried about me? _Why?_ ”

Tony wanted to say that it was because he was suspicious of Loki’s absence, or that something had happened, or that he was needed back in New Asgard; and instead, his usual lack of brain-to-mouth filter betrayed him, as always. “I mean… you’re kind of the only friend I’ve got right now.”

There was a pause, as Loki looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Then…

“If that is true, then you, Stark, are even more royally fucked than I am.”

The startled, self-deprecating smile Loki had given him would be forever seared into Tony’s memory.

* * *

The first time Tony speaks of the cave is after he nearly drowns, in the fucking shower. He hadn’t actually been in much danger, but the water from the shower’s spray hits his face, and Tony _feels_ like he’s drowning. He collapses in the shower, and he can’t move, and _oh God, he’s going to die there_. He feels blackness crowding around the edges of his vision, because _he can’t fucking breathe_ , and then he’s gone.

Tony wakes in his bed, Loki sitting in a chair pulled up next to him. The God of Mischief is reading through something, idly scratching notes into the margins. It’s so blissfully domestic that Tony can barely comprehend it. A wild, inane fantasy flashes through his mind; he imagines waking up like this again, and again, and again. Tony imagines waking up beside Loki every single morning, pressing sweet kisses along Loki’s jaw as the God in question complains about his morning stubble.

_I am so utterly fucked_ , he thinks.

“What happened?” he asks instead, though he’s pretty sure he knows.

Loki raises that usual unimpressed eyebrow. “You fell in the shower and had a panic attack, Stark. Perhaps next time you wish to cleanse yourself after sex, you should attempt a bath? Or just allow me to clean you up? I would really rather not be the cause of your death.”

It’s sarcastic and flippant, but Tony can see through the eye rolling now. Loki’s worried: he’s worried about Tony, but he’s also worried that he’s somehow at fault for this latest episode. Tony feels the need to calm him, and so does the one thing he knows he should never do: he tells the truth.

“It was the water.”

“Yes, I could tell that it was the water you were drowning in, on land though we may be.”

“No, I mean… The water triggered the panic attack. It hit my face, and I… I thought I was back in Afghanistan.”

Suddenly Loki doesn’t look so flippant any more. He’s put aside the papers and pen, and is seated next to Tony on the bed quicker than a thought. A hand cords its way through Tony’s still-wet hair.

“What do you mean? What happened to you in Afghanistan? I thought that part of Midgard was a desert?”

Tony tries to look away, but Loki’s intense dark eyes draw him back in. “Do you… not know about how I got the arc reactor?”

Loki’s eyes widen. “That was in Afghanistan?”

“Yeah… I… uhhhh… I was kidnapped and held prisoner there for 3 months. It’s when I became Iron Man,” Tony smiles just a little, though he knows it’s strained, and sad, “maybe I’ll tell you the whole story sometime.”

Loki hums a soft, noncommittal sound, and doesn’t say anything. Tony can tell he’s being given an out. Loki knows what it means to be held prisoner… he won’t push Tony to tell him what happened. But suddenly, Tony _wants_ to tell him. It’s crazy, but Tony feels he can trust Loki, can spill a truth he’s so desperately tried to hide for so fucking long.

“They, uhhh… They wanted me to build them a weapon. I said no. They… they didn’t like that.”

Loki’s face hardened, eyes burning, but he didn’t still his hand. Tony felt certain, in that moment, that if any members of the Ten Rings had still been alive, Loki would have hunted them to the ends of the Earth, would have killed them using methods so painful, only a Trickster like himself could have come up with them. It was grounding, somehow, to see the rage of the powerful being at his side, to know that Loki’s rage wasn’t directed _at_ him, but was instead _for his sake_.

“They waterboarded me,” Tony continued, and swallowed when he saw Loki’s confusion. He really didn’t want to have to explain, but somehow he also did. It was strangely cathartic, to speak of the horrors to someone who understood. “Waterboarding is a technique where they shove your head underwater, pull you out just before you lose consciousness so that you can draw in one or two breaths, then shove you under again. It’s drowning on dry land.”

Loki’s eyes flashed with recognition and guilt over the phrasing, and his fingers fell to cup Tony’s face. Tony swallowed, as Loki breathed out a soft, “ _Tony_.”

“Would you just… hold me?” Tony hated it, hated that he had to ask, hated how small it made him feel.

But Loki just nodded. He leaned in to brush lips gently against Tony’s, barely even a true kiss, before he pulled the both of them down onto the bed. Tony fell asleep curled against Loki’s chest, feeling long fingers once again carding through his hair.

* * *

It is a long time, more than a year into their relationship, a year and a half since they met again in Norway, before Loki tells him of Jötunheim.

Tony listens, quiet and intent, as Loki bares his soul. Like Tony, Loki never cries, but Tony can tell that the man in his arms is barely holding back the tears as he tells the whole sorrowful story. It begins with Thor’s failed succession, through his discovery of what he truly is _(“I am the monster that parents tell their children about at night”)_ , through his attempts to deny the truth (still clinging to a desperate desire to please his father), and then the destruction of Jötunheim.

His voice drops to a whisper when he tells Tony of his fall into the Void, telling Tony how he let go, _let himself fall_. It had been his own choice.

Tony had hugged him tighter. Someday, he would share in return with Loki that he, too, knew how it felt. Tony understood what it took, how low a person had to fall, for them to choose to take their own life. But in this moment, Loki needed support and understanding, not Tony’s veering of the conversation to himself. ~~(He did that enough, he thought.)~~

Tony hated how much Loki had been through, but he knew that this was just one more thing they shared. Their laundry lists of character defects had led them down their own paths. Without all of the horrible mistakes they had made, neither one of them would have come out the better men they were. (On good days, Tony knew he was better than he had been ~~, even if that _better_ still wasn’t good enough~~. On bad days, Tony didn’t understand how Loki could stand to be with the fuck-up that was Tony Stark, when he had already been through so much, and was now so fucking _good_. Loki would hug him tighter on days when he voiced this, and tell him it was the other way around.)

* * *

It takes them until the _third year_ of their relationship to get to the point where Loki feels safe opening up to Tony about the Chitauri. (And wow, when was the last time Tony had a relationship that lasted this long? Some nights it keeps him up, worrying that he’ll mess up probably the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him in his life any _fucking_ day, now.)

Tony had early on picked up on the fact that _New York_ and the _Tesseract_ and the _Chitauri_ were topics that were _off limits_ with Loki. Loki would shut down, go on the defensive; he’d snappily change the subject, or start yelling, or just straight-up leave the room (or even, on one truly memorable occasion, the fucking _country_ ). Tony didn’t think his genius-level IQ should be necessary to figure out that everything wasn’t all above board here (apparently the genius-level IQ _was_ necessary, though, because Loki’s _entire fucking **family**_ hadn’t managed to pick up on it). Occasionally Loki would say something that gave Tony a start – small comments that sounded off, that sounded _tilted_ , somehow. Tony tried to piece these incidental comments together, and a feeling of unease settled in his gut, a deep-seated suspicion related to what sorts of things may have _actually_ led the God of Mischief to leading the invasion. Loki wouldn’t talk about it openly, though, so Tony backed off, keeping his suspicions to himself, even though he ached to tell the man he ~~(loved)~~ had in his arms, that _it was ok_ , that _it wasn’t his fault_. He knew Loki wouldn’t take kindly to those sorts of sentiments, anyway.

But there was no way to ignore it when one night Loki woke up screaming, shuddering, hands clenched around himself so hard that his nails broke through his own skin. Tony had been through enough panic attacks in his life to recognize one when he saw it, and reached carefully for Loki to try and steady him. His touch sent Loki careening back, however, his eyes wide, unfocused, and terrified.

“Ok, no touching, got it,” he muttered, then continued talking a little louder. He kept his voice calm and gentle as he tried to pull Loki back into the present. “Hey, Loki, it’s all right, you’re safe here. You’re in Stark Tower, with me. You are safe here. Come on, _breathe with me_ , love. One breath in, one breath out, another breath in, another breath out… That’s it, come on. Come back to me…”

Tony kept talking, not trying to reach for Loki again, just trying to ground him with his voice. The minutes ticked by, and slowly (way, _way_ too slowly for Tony’s peace of mind), Loki came back to himself. He seemed shaken, haunted, and looked just about ready to teleport himself away to avoid the inevitable confrontation.

“Hey, hey, _hey_. None of that now, Reindeer Games. You don’t get to vanish right now, because first off, you’re not well; and second off, _I’ll_ have a panic attack if you just leave and I have no way of knowing where you are and if you’re safe.” Tony hated pulling the guilt card, but he knew it was the only thing that would work against Loki in this moment.

Tony leaned forward a bit. “Can I touch you now?” A quick, sharp nod from Loki gave Tony permission to slowly crawl across the bed and sit down beside the God, running a soothing hand up and down his back. “Ok, yeah, like that. Just breathe.” They stayed there, sitting in silence for a bit, before Tony spoke up again, more hesitant this time. “You don’t have to tell me, you know. I’ll listen if you want me to, but I don’t want make you feel like you _have_ to tell me.”

Loki was quiet for a few minutes, but Tony waited. This wasn’t Loki’s normal silence – he seemed to actually be considering it.

“I didn’t die when I fell through the Void,” he finally began, and Tony hummed an encouragement. “I landed far away, at the ends of space. I was weak, nearly powerless from my fall.

“And the Chitauri found me.”

Tony closed his eyes, taking a deeper breath. He’d had his suspicions, and now felt damn near certain they were about to be confirmed.

“They… were interested in me. They wanted to know what I was, wanted to know how I worked. They cut into me, fascinated to watch the flesh regrow on my bones. Their leaders, The Other and the Mad Titan Thanos, were interested as well. They believed they could use me.

“They were right.”

Loki swallowed, and Tony could see pain and guilt and fear and shame in his face, could hear it thick in his voice.

“They just… would not stop, would not let me rest, would not let me recover myself. It only went on for a few years, but it felt so much longer. Eventually, they made me an offer. They told me if I could conquer the Earth for them, they would let me go, leave me alone here to rule. I… I accepted. I no longer had the strength to resist.”

Tony hugged him, gently. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

Loki looked like he might cry, and that scared Tony more than anything. Loki _didn’t cry_.

“I’m a disgrace. I was a Prince of Asgard, but I gave in, I succumbed. I’m a traitor, and a failure,” he paused for a moment, before whispering, barely audible, “Odin should have left me on that fucking rock to _die_.”

At this, Tony swung around to face him, hands holding Loki’s face so that he _had_ to look him in the eye.

“ _No_ , Loki. You are amazing. You survived torture that I can’t even imagine, and you came back out the other side. You lost yourself, but _you found your way back_. Do you have any idea how incredible you are? How absolutely in awe of you I am?

“You should never have had to go through all that, and I am so sorry it ended up that way. And I know, _I know_ , that it doesn’t feel like it’s over. It feels like those memories are always there, just under your skin, and sometimes you feel sure that all of this good is just a fever dream, that you’ll wake up in a moment back in that godforsaken place.

“But you _are_ here, Loki. You survived, and you escaped. Those bastards will never touch you again, because I’ll fucking kill them if they dare even _try_. I’m here for you, Loki, and I will _stay_ here for you. Break if you need to, because I promise I’ll put you back together again. _I fucking swear it_.”

That is the first time that Tony sees Loki cry. He holds him through it, whispering reassurances in his ear, and in the end, pieces Loki back together again, just as he had promised.

* * *

Tony and Loki both hated the Void of space.

For Loki it was a reminder of his failed suicide attempt, and everything that had gone wrong both before and after. It was Thor breaking the Bifrost; it was Odin awakening, disappointed in Loki as always; it was the _Chitauri_ , and all that came with them. (It was also the place from whence the Dark Elves had come, had arrived on Asgard to rip Loki’s mother away from him, though Loki rarely talked about that.)

For Tony it was a reminder of New York, and flying a nuke into space, losing his breath as he crossed the event horizon. It hadn’t helped that Wanda had used his fear of that dark, distant place to torture him, heaping on an additional helping of fear and horror. ~~(She had never apologized for messing with his brain, she had only apologized to the others.)~~ When Tony thought about the Void of space, he couldn’t breathe; and then he thought of drowning on dry land in Afganistan; of his house falling apart below him in Malibu, crushing him beneath its weight in the unforgiving sea; of the heat of the desert making it painful to draw breath; of the arc reactor being pulled from his chest while he _couldn’t fucking move_ ; of the shield coming down and breaking him once again.

* * *

Tony doesn’t like to think about 1991. Specifically, Tony doesn’t like to think about December 16th, 1991. It was the day his whole life went awry, after all.

His father’s death was a milestone in Tony’s life. The man who had abused him for nearly two decades was finally gone. But so was the woman who had provided the only comfort in those early years. The period after the death of Tony’s parents is wrought with emotion – Tony actually _misses_ his father, which only makes Tony hate the man (as well as himself) even more. And he never can shake the guilt over his mother: the guilt over his resentment, the guilt for not trying harder to protect her. All in all, Tony is conflicted and in pain; but to the public he can only show the pain. Tony cannot show the full range of his emotions – he needs to pretend that he only misses them, without any other internal conflicts.

And then there’s the other side of the coin: Bucky. The Winter Soldier, the man who fucked up Tony’s equilibrium as a young man, and then later came back to fuck up his entire life again, just when he thought he’d finally found some stability. Finding out the truth of that night had dredged up those long-buried memories, swamped him again with that mixed relief and pain and guilt. But the worst part was that Steve had _known_. After all his self-righteous speeches about honesty and teamwork and whatever fucking else, Steve had just unilaterally decided not to tell his “friend” that he knew not only that Tony’s parents had been murdered (not just died in a car crash, as Tony had been told), but that he knew who the killer was. The betrayal he felt in that moment from someone he had hesitantly finally put in the category of “family” pushed him over the edge, forced him to act, overwhelming his reason. (The whole thing rankles all the more because Tony _knows_ that if Steve had _just fucking **told him**_ , he would have been able to take a few days to cool off his head, and then get over himself. Bucky was a victim, too – Tony would have forgiven him soon enough, would have supported him. He would have argued Bucky’s cause to governments and the world, would have helped him get the help he so desperately needed. Tony would have been able to keep his family, but instead, Steve’s betrayal had torn everything asunder.)

* * *

In the years following the Sokovia Accords debacle, Tony wore himself thin renegotiating the treaty. He spent hundreds of millions of dollars and sometimes stayed awake for nearly a full week at a time, hopping from meeting to meeting. All this while he still needed to develop tech for Stark Industries and continue improving the Iron Man suits, as well as the tech for ~~his team~~ the Avengers.

Whenever Loki walked into Tony’s lab to see Tony working on new Widow’s Bites, bows and arrows, or a mechanical arm, his eyes blazed with anger and his lips became impossibly thin and tight. He would grab Tony perhaps more harshly than strictly necessary, and forcibly drag him away from his project. (The time Loki walked in on Tony configuring a virtual shield, multiple of his screens cracked and short-circuited. Tony wondered vaguely as Loki damn near pulled his arm out of his socket while dragging him away, whether Loki had somehow absorbed or copied Thor’s powers.)

Tony has always been a genius, and so something that he devotes damn near his entire being to was bound to work eventually. The Avengers are forgiven, and the Accords become what Tony had always wanted them to be, had always intended for them to be – _oversight_ , not control. Tony isn’t surprised that most of the Avengers don’t come back, is disappointed when none of them even acknowledge his continued existence (much less all of the work he put into fixing the Accords), and pretty much breaks down when the Captain sends him a text on that insult of a phone.

_> >I heard about the changes to the Accords. Bucky and I are staying in Wakanda, though. We thought the Avengers should be centered here, now, since we’ve already been here so long, anyway. King T’Challa is such an integral part of the team now, too; it seems only fitting. Still, it’ll be nice to be able to leave for missions without fear. Thanks for that – not sure what you did, but I figure you were involved somehow. T’Challa sure seems to think so. See you, Tony._

It reads more like an e-mail than a text, Tony notes idly. It’s also barely a “thank you,” much less an apology for Siberia and everything else. Tony’s hands are shaking, his entire body is shaking, and the phone drops from his fingers onto the bed. One hand clenches in his lap, the other rising to cover his eyes.

_Stark men are made of Iron. Stark men do not cry!_ The ghost of his father seems to scream in Tony’s head.

It doesn’t matter – the tears fall anyway. Slowly at first, and then in great, heaving sobs. Everything, _everything_ he had done, all the hours of work he had put into fixing his mistakes, and this, _this_ was the result? A _brush-off_? How many times had he taken the blame onto himself, both in private and in public? How many times had he texted Steve, told the media, told T’Challa and Shuri to tell Wanda and Clint and Scott and _Bucky_ how sorry he was? How many times had he actually _passed out_ from exhaustion as he tried to keep up, tried to push himself beyond the boundaries of human capability? And what had all of that work been _for_? He hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it had been before, but he had thought things would at least _improve_. And now, seeing that text, Tony found himself faced with the reality he had been trying to avoid for so long – his fuck-up with the Accords, with _Bucky_ , was _permanent_. There was no fixing it, no getting back the _family_ he had so painstakingly built for himself all those years ago. It really was gone, _forever_.

And it was all Tony’s fault.

Between the sobs, Tony’s breath was catching, and he _couldn’t breathe_. It was all too much, he realized, and he truly _couldn’t take this any longer_.

“FRIDAY, activate Void Protocol,” he gasped out.

“Boss, are you sure?” Tony thought he heard fear in her voice, but that wasn’t really possible. She was too young, she wasn’t _JARVIS_. (And _damn_ , if that thought didn’t send another bolt of pain through him.)

“Yes, FRIDAY. Confirm activation of Void Protocol.”

“… Confirmed, Boss.” A pause, and then a voice that Tony thought maybe actually sounded _sad_. “Goodbye, Boss.” Well, at least someone would be sad for him in the end.

Tony reached over to his nightstand, where an invisible panel opened along the side. Inside was a small box, which Tony removed from its holder. He opened it, gazing down at the injector needle lying there, tempting him. Was he really going to do this? _Yes_ , he realized; _yes, he was_. His fingers reached for the injector.

“Tony, don’t you fucking dare,” the voice was like ice, and Tony’s head snapped up immediately, eyes going wide. Standing in front of him was his God of Mischief, arms crossed over his chest and eyes glowing with an emotion that Tony could only interpret as righteous fury. He swallowed.

“Why not?” even to his own ears, his voice sounded broken, lost. “Everything I did, all of that time and work, it was all for nothing,” he whispered, gesturing to the flip phone still lying open on the bed. Loki reached over him, picking it up, eyes scanning the message quickly, fingers tightening around the device. His eyes went wide with rage, and one more reflexive tightening of his fingers crushed the phone against his palm.

“‘ _See you, Tony?_ ’” Loki’s eyes focused back on Tony’s face, even as he dropped to his knees in front of him. (And Loki, _kneeling_? That was a sight Tony _never_ thought he’d see.) “Tony, I am never letting him near you again.” Loki paused, seeming to need a moment to collect himself. “And if you kill yourself over this asshole, I swear by the Norns, I will rain destruction upon them all.”

Tony didn’t dare say a word, staring at Loki with wide eyes. He didn’t mention that Loki had lost against the Avengers once before – something told him that the Loki in front of him could and _would_ destroy the entire fucking _universe_ to get his revenge for Tony’s death.

Ice-cold hands reached out to gently take hold of Tony’s wrists. “Stay with me, Tony. Leave them all, let them go. If they can’t appreciate what an incredible person you are, then they _don’t fucking deserve you_.” The grip tightened on Tony’s wrists, and there was an edge of desperation in Loki’s voice, now. “ _Please_ , Tony. I know how it feels to be on the razor’s edge, to want to let go. I know how it feels, to accept the end, to willingly fall into the darkness.”

“… I know, too.”

“… What?”

“This isn’t the first time,” Tony breathes, wide eyes locked with Loki’s, “I’ve tried twice before. And they do say the third time’s the charm, no?” Tony laughed humorlessly. His eyes, which had fallen to his lap, glanced back up at Loki, and at the sight of the utterly _heartbroken_ expression on Loki’s face, Tony felt like his breath had been stolen from his lungs.

“Oh, _Tony_.”

There was a beat of silence, where neither of them seemed to know what to say.

Then, Tony closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and snapped closed the lid of the box between his fingers. His grip loosened, and one of the hands left his wrist, a gentle tugging sensation encouraging the box to leave his hands. Both hands then rose to frame Tony’s face, and he finally allowed his eyes to open again, gazing back into the too-vibrant green orbs in front of him.

“I have you, Tony. And I am never letting you let go again.”

Tony just closed his eyes and nodded, letting Loki pull him back down onto the bed and wrap his arms around him. Tony nestled into the now noticeably warmer body, and let his thoughts and emotions and fears just drain away.

* * *

The first time Tony and Loki share a bed, it’s an accident. In some ways, Tony thinks that should be surprising, but then… nothing about his relationship with Loki ever went the way a “normal” relationship was supposed to go.

Loki had left New Asgard, because he really couldn’t stand to be around the Asgardians anymore. Tony thinks he understands – he knows what it’s like to feel unwanted among the people you’ve known the longest, the people who you once considered family. He also knows that redemption stories are nothing but fairy tales; Loki has by this point helped save the universe once (with Thor on Svartalfheim), Asgard once (or at least the people who once inhabited it), and Thor’s life _who-the-fuck-knows-how-many-times_ , but the Asgardians _still_ don’t really seem to trust him. The people he fought beside on Sakar and against Hela (Thor, Bruce, Valkyrie), see him as a monster, a traitor just waiting to turn on them all. All the sacrifices he’s made, all the pain Loki has felt (they’ve only known each other a few months, and Loki doesn’t like talking about himself, but he’s dropped enough veiled comments and hints that Tony thinks he has an inkling), all the effort he’s put into making up for his past sins and helping others – they’re all just brushed aside. Tony thinks he gets it, so when Loki says he’s leaving, Tony says he’s coming with.

The look of confused frustration he gets in response is _priceless_.

They leave New Asgard, and all the people they don’t get along with there, and head to Malibu, at Tony’s suggestion. (He’d initially thought to invite Loki to New York, but then thought that maybe that one ought to wait a bit.) Loki’s long-suffering sigh at Tony’s suggestion is expected, but he doesn’t object. So they head to Malibu, where Tony promptly introduces him to his entire liquor cabinet. Tony gets spectacularly drunk, and even Loki seems to get somewhat tipsy from the 5 bottles of _real_ Absinthe he consumes. Not the played-down, non-hallucinogenic shit they sell in stores, oh no; Tony has a cabinet full of the _real stuff_ , that he knows full well might be just a little bit illegal. He doubts Loki cares, and he laughs himself silly as the light playing across Loki’s skin seems to transform into butterflies. As he drunkenly explains the joke, Loki’s lips curl into what Tony thinks is a barley-suppressed smile.

When they awake, Tony has the hangover of the fucking _millennium_ , and he groans as he turns around in bed, unhappy at the light coming in through the large bay windows. Chancing opening an eye to test the effects on his headache, Tony suddenly snaps both eyes wide open, then closes them immediately with another groan. He tries to collect himself, fails, and opens one eye carefully again. _Nope, he didn’t image it – Loki is sleeping next to him_.

_What the fuck?_ Tony glances down at them both, relieved to find they’re both still fully clothed, though those clothes are definitely rumpled. He figures they must have passed out at some point. Vodka and absinthe will do that to a person, he muses to himself, and apparently the absinthe will do that even to non-humans. His eyes flicker back up to Loki’s face, and he thinks he feels something ache inside of him.

Because the Loki in front of him now, the Loki sleeping beside him, is the calmest, most relaxed version of Loki he’s ever seen. Sleep has smoothed the tightness of his mouth and the stress-wrinkles between his brows (and Tony hadn’t even _known_ those weren’t natural and permanent), and even the shadows under his eyes seem lighter. It crosses Tony’s mind that he’s never actually seen Loki sleeping (well… _duh_ ), and he realizes with a start that he’d never even _questioned_ the fact that Loki seems to join him to talk shop, or watch him work, at _all fucking hours of the day_. Something softens inside Tony as he wonders if the God beside him gets exactly the same amount of sleep as he does; which is to say, none at all.

Knowing that, Tony doesn’t want to disturb him, doesn’t want to wake Loki from what might well be the first real rest he’s had in _ages_. And Tony has a pounding headache, anyway, and thinks that sleep might help take the edge off just a bit. So he closes his eyes and calms his breathing, and if he maybe shifts just a little bit closer to Loki before he drifts off, well. Who the fuck has the right to judge?

The next time Tony opens his eyes, Loki is gone. He’s not entirely sure why he feels so disappointed. They hadn’t talked about what they would do once they both got to Malibu, but Tony had sort of expected that Loki would stay. (He’d _wanted_ Loki to stay.) With a sigh, Tony gingerly sits up, trying to move as slowly as possible to prevent his earlier headache from reemerging. It’s only once he’s sitting up completely, sun shining through the windows, that Tony realizes he doesn’t feel hungover _at all_.

“Huh. Weird.”

Tony heads downstairs, figuring he ought to eat something anyway, and stops the moment he enters the kitchen. For a moment, all he can do is stare. Because there Loki is, still in his rumpled clothes from yesterday, nursing a hot cup of coffee. There’s another cup waiting on the table.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Loki smirks, “Care for a coffee?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathes, feeling like he’d swallowed his tongue, “Yeah, definitely.”

Loki raises that eyebrow that Tony has grown accustomed to seeing rise in his presence. “Are you well, Tony?”

“Yeah, yeah, just… I guess I didn’t expect you to still be here. When I woke up and you weren’t there, I figured you’d taken off.”

Loki seems to hesitate for a moment before he speaks softly into his coffee. “Should I have left?”

“No! Loki, Gods, no, that’s not what I meant. I- I’m actually really glad you stayed,” Tony finishes awkwardly. Then, figuring that’s enough _feelings_ for one morning, and before he’d even started his coffee, for fuck’s sake, Tony switches topics. “Actually, I’m feeling surprisingly good. Sorta figured I’d have a killer hangover, honestly.”

Loki raises that eyebrow again, though this time there’s mirth in his eyes. “Well, Tony, you _are_ a genius, or so you say. What do you _think_ happened to that headache of yours?”

Tony’s eyes go wide. “Fuck, you’ve _gotta_ teach me how to do that.”

Loki only laughs.

* * *

When Tony hangs up the phone after another conversation with Rhodey, Loki pops the question.

“Who is he to you?”

Tony swivels around in his chair to face the man leaning casually against the doorframe, a smirk already rising on his face. “What’s the matter? Jealous, love?”

“No,” Loki answered, pushing off the doorframe, and practically _gliding_ across the room towards Tony. “I was merely curious. You do not often allow others to take much of your time on Chipotle night.” The way Loki said _“Chipotle”_ implied that he was still confused at how Tony could even _eat_ the stuff, much less actually enjoy it. (Tony knew that Loki’s resistance was just for show – he loved Chipotle just as much as Tony did.)

“I was talking to Rhodey, actually. His recovery is coming along pretty well, but I need him to come over soon so that I can do some adjustments on his legs.”

Loki’s eyebrows scrunched a bit in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘adjustments on his legs?’ Is that a turn of phrase?”

Tony bit out a laugh, but then sobered quickly. “No, uhhh… Rhodey’s legs were damaged pretty severely. I built him prosthetics that he can use to walk and stuff.”

“Sometimes, Tony, you truly do impress me. How was he hurt? In battle?”

Tony’s little bubble of pride over Loki’s praise burst immediately, and he felt himself shrinking back into his chair, drawing up his legs and holding them in his arms.

“It happened during the airport battle, actually. In Leipzig?”

Loki’s face hardens immediately, pinched and seething. “Against Rogers and that boy-toy of his?”

Tony nods curtly, and Loki moves towards him, settling a hand on his shoulder until Tony looks up.

“So this Rhodey… would you like to tell me about him? It seems to me that you care for him.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. Rhodey’s pretty much my best friend, or maybe more like the brother I never had?”

“Hmmm… How about you tell me more over subpar knock-off Mexican cuisine?”

Tony smiles again, and gives an easier nod. “Yeah, ok, all right.”

So Tony and Loki wander back down to Loki’s kitchen, and Tony tells Loki about Rhodey. He tells him about how they met at MIT, and were basically inseparable. He talks about Rhodey’s enlistment, and how hard it was on them both. James Rhodes saw war, and came back a more serious man, with different priorities. Tony tries to gloss over things, wants to leave Loki thinking that Rhodey is the best thing in Tony’s life (other than Loki, of course), but as he tells the parts of the Iron Man story that involve Rhodey, he sees Loki’s eyes harden, and his lips thin. It’s clear Loki is reading through the story to the heart of the issue – he hears how betrayed Tony felt when Rhodey stopped talking to him after the press conference; when he took Tony’s other suit and told him he didn’t deserve to wear his; when Rhodey brushed off Tony’s PTSD. Tony loves Rhodey, he does, but somewhere deep inside he has always understood: Rhodey has never loved him back to the same degree. In fact, he realizes while he talks, softly uttering the words as he nears the end of the tale,

“Now that I’m giving him stuff again, now that there’s a reward involved with dealing with me, I feel like we’re closer than we’ve been since MIT.”

And it’s true: he and Rhodey haven’t been this close since before Rhodey’s enlistment. Tony shrinks back into himself as he realizes the truth he has avoided for so long – _every single person_ in his life has only ever stuck around for the perks. Any time things got hard, they got frustrated or angry with him and left. And this was true of _everyone_ – even Rhodey and Pepper, the two people he loved more than any other.

But _no_ , he realizes: _Loki_ is different. Loki has never asked anything of him, not even in their relationship. He has _always_ let Tony lead, always let Tony decide when to take things further, if at all. Tony grins wryly, and there is little humor in it. Every time Tony reflects on his relationship with Loki, he realizes, he understands _even more_ why the two of them work so well.

Loki smiles sadly at him. “We make quite the pair, do we not? We have spent our lives pleasing those we called our brothers, giving them everything we could. When we could no longer deliver, we were abandoned, treated as nuisances and traitors. Our _brothers_ never realized that the ways in which they used _us_ were the truest betrayal.”

Tony’s eyes widened. Loki rarely ever brought up his relationship with Thor. That surprised him far more than the way that Loki appeared to have read his mind. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to be scarily on the same wavelength. (It sometimes made Tony wonder whether aliens had soulmates, even if humans didn’t. Not that he would _ever_ bring that up to Loki.)

“You don’t often talk about Thor,” Tony tried, hoping it would prompt Loki.

“I do not much like to think of him, and of what once was but could never remain.”

“When did you realize it was over? I mean, the two of you were always kind of… _antagonistic_. At least, when you weren’t fighting Thor’s enemies. Am I wrong?”

“No, you are correct. I often _antagonized_ him, but was loyal on the field of battle,” Loki responds, but takes a moment, seemingly to collect himself, before he forges on.

“I realized it was over after we returned from that foolish battle Thor led us into on Jötunheim. While we were there a Frost Giant touched me, and where he did my skin began to turn blue. I was not yet certain, but I suspected the truth of what I was. And Thor… he spoke of wiping out the Jötun, of making them all fear him as they had feared Odin.

“I tried to fix what had been broken, to prove my loyalty to Asgard, but it only ended in failure and disgrace. And even if I had succeeded, if Thor and Odin had approved of my actions, or perhaps forgiven me, there would still have been no way to turn our lives back to the way they had been before. Because I am Jötun, and I cannot put my faith and trust in an Asgardian raised to hate my race by a man who nearly wiped us out.”

Loki looked down at the now-empty Chipotle bowl, and Tony’s heart wrenched to see the redness around his eyes.

“We’ve both lost our brothers, haven’t we?” His smile was sad as he reached forward to place his hand on top of Loki’s. “You’ve lost Thor, and all of the other warriors you fought beside. And I’ve lost everyone that I’ve ever fought beside, too, in all the ways that matter.”

Loki’s eyes rose to meet his. “You’re right, I suppose. But to borrow a phrase of yours that I have grown _particularly_ fond of; _fuck ‘em all_.”

Tony’s laugh this time was real and loud.

* * *

Tony and Loki talk about fathers often. Sometimes the conversation veers to their own children, or lack thereof. Tony fears that someday Peter (who he _most definitely_ views as his adoptive son) will hate him as much as Tony hates his own father. Loki refuses to have children, because neither his biological nor adoptive fathers did right by him, and he doesn’t believe he can do right by anyone else.

Tony worries constantly over Peter. He continually monitors his whereabouts, and panics whenever “the kid” goes off the grid, or decides to leave New York. Every time he comes over, Tony asks him about anything he can think of – school, being a superhero, friends, research, hobbies; the list goes on and on. He gives him everything Peter even vaguely mentions wanting, and is constantly doing upgrades on his suit. Inherent in his every move is the fear that he isn’t good enough, won’t be able to protect Peter, might end up hated by Peter. (Loki doesn’t think he really has anything to fear – Peter acts as if _“Mr. Stark”_ hung the moon in the sky.)

Loki also dotes on Peter. He secretly enchants Peter’s suits to make them resistant to magical attacks (both Tony and Peter know this, had picked up on the weird energy readings and done some tests; neither of them has mentioned it to Loki, though). Loki spends hours on the internet researching the interests of teenagers in the modern day, and pays just as close attention to Peter’s hints at things he might want as Tony does. When Peter mentions he wants to go on vacation, Loki offers to open a portal through reality to get him there, and both Peter and Tony just stare. (Eventually, they take him up on the offer, and all three of them take a lovely 3-day vacation to Alfheim. Loki has to promise endlessly that he can teleport them back to Earth immediately at the smallest sign of trouble, but the stories he’s told them about the Light Elves and their magic make both of ~~his~~ the genius boys salivate. It also helps that Tony and Peter both share an obsession over _The Lord of the Rings_. ~~Loki doesn’t tell them that he owns dog-eared copies of every book, and that his cramped, scribbled notes fill all of the margins.~~ )

After a _very_ antagonistic start, Loki also takes a liking to Stephen Strange. Strange and Tony had known each other before (the circles of ~~sarcastic asshole~~ genius rich men in New York being only so large), and they reconnect now that they’re both superheroes and defenders of the Earth. They talk for _hours_ , with Peter often tagging along. At first, Loki avoids them, but after saving Strange’s hide once (and Strange getting socked in the jaw by Tony when he tried to lock Loki outside of reality again), the sorcerer relents. Eventually, Loki takes him under his wing. The level of sorcerers on Midgard is _embarrassing_ , after all, and Loki can’t stand to see such poor displays of magic. His pride won’t allow him to abide such a magical disgrace, as he informs Tony and Strange. (The two both raise knowing eyebrows at each other.) When all four of them are together, they get along like a house on fire ~~(and every single one of them thinks at varying times that they could probably take over the entire _universe_ together if they wanted)~~.

Tony and Loki both still feel that they should never be trusted with children, or with caring for others in any way, shape, or form. (Peter and Strange both know this, and do their best to show all the more how much they appreciate everything the FrostIron duo does for them. ~~They don’t mention the nickname in front of them, _ever_ , and they both know Peter does a much better job of conveying his feelings than Strange. Still, he tries, and that’s what really matters.~~)

* * *

Sometimes Tony smirks bitterly to himself when he thinks about the fact that the only family members that he and Loki can talk about openly and freely are their fathers. _Team Daddy Issues_.

Tony hates Howard. He hates that Howard raised him to hate himself, to have self-esteem so low it very nearly put him six feet under. He hates that Howard never spoke kindly to him, only with disdain. He hates that he had to play the part of the loving son in public, and that Howard seemed to _embrace_ the role of the loving father. Tony knew how Howard really felt, though, because the nights after they had to spend a day in public, Howard’s drinking would be even worse than usual, and he would pull his punches even less, sometimes not bothering even to keep the damage away from Tony’s arms and legs and face, where they might be noticed. Tony would have to stay inside for weeks afterward, waiting for the evidence to go away. Tony hated Howard for that, too. (To this day, Tony cannot bear to have anyone call him “Anthony” – all he can think of when he hears that name is Howard’s drunken yelling. In the beginning, Loki calls him “Anthony,” Shakespearean formal that he is. After the third time, Tony tells him that only his Father called him “Anthony,” and that Howard is a man Tony would prefer to forget ever existed. Loki never calls him “Anthony” again, because he _understands_.)

But the more Tony heard about Odin, the more Tony felt that Loki had drawn the shorter straw. Tony _knew_ Howard hated him; Loki had thought Odin loved him. So Loki could never quite succeed in building the same defenses that Tony did – his feelings towards the man that raised him were too complicated, too mired in his desperate search for the approval of a father who _said_ he loved Loki, but never truly deigned to show him any evidence of that love.

And then there was Odin’s unabashed hatred of the Jötun. He adopted a Jötun child, and raised that child to hate and fear his own race. How was that in any way responsible? Or proof of love? (Loki had told him of Odin’s final words in Norway, and Tony had actually let out a bitter laugh. Loki’s wry grin proved the sentiment was shared.) Tony sometimes wondered about Odin’s insistence that Loki had been raised for a throne. It occurred to him that maybe the intended throne had been the throne of _J_ _ötunheim_ all along. Perhaps Odin had thought that one day he could reveal the truth of Loki’s heritage, and have Loki assume the throne after the death of Laufey, giving Odin and Asgard a puppet king of their bitter enemy. _How_ , exactly, Odin might have thought he would be able to _maintain_ Loki’s trust and loyalty after the mandatory “oops, guess what, you’re actually Jötun; you know, the species of monsters I’ve raised you to hate” discussion remains _far_ beyond Tony’s comprehension.

And Tony doesn’t doubt that it smarted, too, how truly _fit_ Loki was to be a king. (Really, is it any surprise that he bested them all, and managed to steal Odin’s throne for himself in the end?) He wasn’t known as the Silvertongue for nothing: Loki could talk circles around just about anyone, making him a born politician. He also had enough of a reputation to prevent people from trying to double-cross him. And the people who earned his loyalty would be forever loved _(Frigga)_. Thor was kind and fierce, no doubt, but he didn’t have the mind for intrigue that Loki did. Thor was a warrior, but Loki was a _King_. No doubt it hurt Odin’s pride to know that the Frost Giant with the taste for magic and mischief was better-suited to the throne than his own true-born son. (It probably also didn’t help matters in recent years for Odin to see Thor leaving aside his “teachings” and forging a different path – a path which in Tony’s opinion made Thor better suited to the crown, but must have seemed to Odin like weakness.)

* * *

 Unlike fathers, mothers are a topic avoided like the plague between them.

Tony’s mother, the beautiful Maria Stark, was warm and kind and gentle. In many ways, she was the exact opposite of Howard. Tony loved her fiercely as a child, and saw her as his refuge from Howard’s drunken rages. However, as the years went by, Howard’s abuse grew worse and worse, and Maria became more and more distant. Tony’s never been sure what it was – maybe Howard abused her, too; or maybe she just could no longer handle seeing her own son physically and emotionally bruised and broken. Neither of them could reveal the truth about Howard after all; they just had to grin and bear it. Regardless, his mother’s growing detachment from him led to some resentment on Tony’s part – he loved her, and probably always would, but he never could completely forgive the fact that Maria had emotionally abandoned her only son, at the time when he most needed his _Mom_.

Loki seemed to have even more difficulty discussing his mother. His voice would become tight and choked, and his eyes would turn suspiciously red whenever he uttered the name _Frigga_.

He would talk, sometimes, about the way that Frigga had taken him under her wing, loved him as Odin never did. Loki told Tony about magic, about all that she had taught him. He told Tony that it was Frigga who had taught him how to _fight_ , even; that the lithe, quick fighting style he favored was the result of Frigga’s training. Apparently, Odin hadn’t wanted to train him (Tony’s blood boiled when he thought about how early in Loki’s life Odin’s feelings towards the Jötun had manifested in his treatment of Loki), Thor had been too busy having fun with the other warriors to pay any attention to this (no surprise there), and Frigga had stepped up to support the boy she obviously loved as her son.

Tony could always sense that there was a reason Loki didn’t talk about Frigga. He obviously loved her, and Tony knew she had died, but that didn’t seem to Tony to be the real reason. There was something else there, he just knew it.

It wasn’t until they were nearly _5 years_ into their relationship that Loki finally told Tony the full story about the Dark Elves’ attack on Asgard. Tony had known parts of the story before, from what Thor had told him, but he’d never heard Loki’s version. He had asked only once, and Loki had _shut down_. Tony knew better than to ask again after that.

But on the anniversary of his mother’s death that year, Loki couldn’t seem to keep the truth to himself anymore. He told Tony of Odin’s sentence and his mother’s support; of his time in the dungeons; and of the Dark Elf whom he had given directions to, the one that had helped kill his mother.

Tony held him tight as Loki cried, whispering between strangled breaths how sorry he was, how he had never wanted her hurt, how it was all his fault. When he finally collects himself a little, Loki finishes the story. He tells Tony about the escape from Asgard, and about Svartalfheim. He tells Tony that it was on that dark world that he first introduced himself as _“Loki of J_ _ötunheim,”_ and that he had courted death in that battle against the Dark Elves. He admits to Tony that he had _allowed_ himself to be impaled on that spear, that he had hoped it would end there. _He deserved nothing more than to die forgotten and alone on an abandoned world_ , he has whispered into Tony’s shoulder, and Tony’s heart broke again for the man in his arms.

He held him through everything, and told Loki how glad he was that he survived. He didn’t tell Loki it wasn’t his fault – one day he would, but in this moment, he knew Loki would not believe him.

 

* * *

The topic of sex between Loki and Tony was something avoided for a long while. Their relationship progressed slowly, but steadily. There was years of distrust and antagonism, and decades/centuries of other emotional trauma for the both of them to overcome. Friendship came slowly but steadily, with admittedly a few hiccups. But after that first night they passed out together in Tony’s bed, Loki started spending more time around him.

And Loki’s constant presence was… _soothing_ to Tony. For the first time in a long while, Tony had someone around that he didn’t have to feel guarded around. Even with Bruce, his Science Bro that had understood him better than maybe anyone had before, Tony still couldn’t really talk about everything; it was really only the science. Loki, on the other hand, just _got it_. He knew what it was to be the unwanted genius child trying desperately to please his father.

Tony found his thoughts revolving around the Trickster God more and more. He would find himself wondering where Loki was, what Loki was doing ~~, and whether or not Loki was ok~~. For the most part Loki kept himself out of trouble, but he also couldn’t seem to resist playing the occasional prank on a superhero. Tony had trouble ignoring how many times one of his satellites or drones caught footage of Captain America falling into pits of non-venomous snakes, or running straight into people who had definitely not been there moments ago. There was no _evidence_ that it was Loki’s doing, per se, but Tony doubted anyone else who had the capability to pull that sort of shit with the Capsicle would do it in such a harmless way.

The harmlessness of Loki’s pranks got to Tony more than anything else. He’d had an inkling, a feeling that was getting stronger, that the power-mad God he had encountered all those years ago wasn’t who Loki really was. Which begged the question: what had changed him? Tony suspected, but hoped he was wrong. He suspected, and his thoughts continued to revolve around Loki.

So it wasn’t really that much of a surprise when Tony realized: his _like_ of Loki, was no longer merely that of friends. The realization wasn’t that much of a surprise, but it _was_ discouraging; talk about impossibly high hopes. Loki didn’t seem the type to get bogged down, and Tony was frankly surprised that he still hadn’t left, hadn’t peaced out to some far-flung corner of the universe ages ago.

For once, Tony didn’t really know how to get what he wanted. Loki could match him beat for beat: he was wicked smart and sarcastic as fuck, and Tony figured the _Silvertongue_ with the glittering eyes and sharply defined cheekbones had drawn his fair share of admirers in the millennium or more that he’d already lived. As time went on, Tony became more and more reluctant to say anything; it felt like Pepper all over again, and maybe even worse. Because while Pepper had loved him, she hadn’t really _understood_ him. Losing Loki, after finally finding someone who matched with him so well, was a possibility that Tony didn’t even want to consider.

But Tony was a genius, and he _noticed things_. He noticed that when Loki rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics, there was humor there. He noticed that Loki fell asleep in Tony’s bed more times than he didn’t when he was over, and that he was actually interested in what Tony had to say. His eyes didn’t glaze over, and he didn’t get irritated. Loki listened, and asked questions that sometimes left Tony stumped – it was when he overcame those moments without answers that Tony made his greatest breakthroughs.

So Tony wondered. And as always, in the end it was his impulsive mouth that betrayed him.

The two of them had just finished dinner, and were both on at least their third glass of wine, when Tony found the ~~courage~~ stupidity to ask:

“Are we dating?”

Loki’s arm stopped midway through the action of lifting his wineglass to his beautiful, pale, thin (and perfectly kissable) lips.

“Do you believe we ought to be dating, Tony?”

“Uhhh… Yes?”

“Well then… I believe it is high time you kissed me, is it not?”

Tony grinned, and did as his God demanded.

 

* * *

Both Strange and Loki are worried about Thanos. They know that he is coming, and are uncertain of how to respond. But both of them take some reassurance from the fact that three of the Infinity Stones are on Earth, and all of them are independently controlled by powerful people: The Vision has the Mind Stone, Strange has the Time Stone, and Loki has the Space Stone, still in the form of the Tesseract. (And _damn_ had that been a surprise, ~~but somehow also not a surprise _at all_ ,~~ when Loki had whipped out the Tesseract in front of Tony with a self-deprecating smile that seemed to say “whoops, yes, I _may_ have actually saved the Tesseract from the Vaults of Asgard in the final battle against Hela, and I may have absolutely, definitely not told Thor about it.”)

They had summoned The Vision, and Peter had invited himself over, and had all decided that while Thanos knew that two of the Infinity Stones were on Earth, the fact that he likely didn’t know about the Tesseract was a huge advantage. And having three different, _incredibly powerful_ people with the three Infinity Stones was a situation that they had all figured it would be best to maintain.

It was a strategy that worked, that allowed them to run circles around Thanos, to beat him where the other Avengers failed. And as they hadn’t actually bothered to let _any_ of said other Avengers know about the Tesseract, or their strategy, there was a lot of angry yelling following the battle. Or there would have been, if Strange hadn’t rolled his eyes, opened a portal, and taken Tony, Loki, Peter, The Vision, and himself, straight back to New York. It took another two days before the other Avengers were able to catch up.

Tony allowed FRIDAY to let the Avengers into the tower, and lounged with Loki on the couch, deliberately trying to appear calm even as his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. So that was how the Avengers found them, with Tony pretty much _on top_ of Loki. Thor looked thunderous (hah!), and Steve looked righteously affronted.

“Tony. _What_ are you doing with Loki?” It was Clint who asks, sounding annoyed. Of all of them, Tony supposes he has the most right to be upset.

“I’m dating him?”

“Since when?!” That was Thor, disbelieving.

Loki smirks, gloriously happy at the successful deception, regardless of whether or not it had been intentional. “Since about six months post our arrival on Midgard, dear brother. Tony and I have been together for the better part of three years.”

“And you didn’t think you ought to inform us?” And Tony takes offense to that, to the way the Captain seems _offended_ that Tony had kept a part of this personal life from the team.

“You all haven’t exactly been asking me how I’m doing these last few years,” Tony starts, then can’t stop himself from adding, as his anger gets the better of him, “and you’re one to talk about keeping secrets, Cap.”

Steve looks annoyed, and like he wants to pursue the topic (and probably tell Tony how he’s wrong), but Natasha elbows him and fixes Tony with a glare.

“Why didn’t you tell us you all had a plan?”

Tony sighs. “Because we didn’t think you would trust us enough. I doubt any of you would have been willing to allow Loki to keep the Tesseract, and the fact that he had it is a huge part of why we were able to win. And even though I’ve proved myself in battle before, none of you seem to trust my judgement. We figured we could count on you to distract Thanos initially, and then take advantage of the ensuing chaos of battle to launch a more _targeted_ strike.”

“Tony, you can’t just keep stuff like that from us!” Steve again, and Tony feels the strong urge to strangle ~~him~~ something.

“Again, you’re one to talk about keeping things from other people. And I really don’t see why it matters – we won! Thanos is dead, and his army defeated. So leave and let Loki and I get in our third victory fuck of the afternoon.”

Loki lets out a rumbling purr behind him, tracing fingers down Tony’s cheek. “Already, dear? And here I had believed you might be sore for a while longer.”

Tony smirks up at him, amused by the horrified expressions on the faces of his ex-teammates. He could see the satisfaction at the reaction glimmering in Loki’s eyes and tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“So are we done here?” Tony asks, looking pointedly back at the team, eyebrows raised.

Steve sighs and shakes his head, but he pulls his team back into the elevator. Tony knows it isn’t over, that they’d be back eventually. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. The Big Bad was defeated, they’d saved the day, he’d probably managed to bruise the Captain’s massive ego, and he absolutely deserved his third round of victory sex.

It wasn’t until three weeks later that the Avengers turned up again – apparently, that’s how long it took to wrangle a superhero team. Tony had FRIDAY let them in, and they all sat down in one of Stark Tower’s meeting rooms. Tony sat especially close to Loki, just to be antagonistic.

“So… Who wants to start this?” Tony asks, eyebrow raised towards the others.

“I would begin, Anthony,” Thor intones, and Tony hides a flinch at the use of his full first name. Loki knows, though, and squeezes his arm lightly in comfort.

“What’s up, Point Break?”

“I wonder, Anthony, whether my brother has been entirely honest with you, and whether you know what it is you are doing. Loki has a history of mistreating those who love him.”

The hand on his arm suddenly feels like a vice, and Tony is pretty sure that if looks could kill, Thor would have dropped dead from the identical glares he receives from Tony and Loki.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“What?” Thor’s concerned face turns to confusion, and Tony glances at Loki to see if he can proceed. Loki hesitates, then nods. Tony knows he’ll never say the words himself, but he’ll allow Tony to say them for him.

“Your brother loved you, _always_. He supported you in battle and in politics, and where were you to repay him? When did you ever watch his back in a fight? When did you ever defend him from Odin’s hatred?

“Where were _you_ for your _brother_ , Thor, when Loki fell, and spent _years_ being tortured by Thanos and the Chitauri? Where were you when he needed someone in his family to defend him against Odin, to realize that the _real_ Loki is a God of Mischief, not genocide? That he plays tricks; he doesn’t fucking _conquer worlds_?

“How the _fuck_ can you even call yourself his brother, anymore, when you didn’t know him well enough to see that he carried out the invasion of Earth under duress, threat of continued torture, and the control of the Mind Stone?”

Every single person in the room is staring at Tony in shock, but he’s not done.

“And honestly? I’m not too sure the rest of you are any better. Steve, I’ve never told you this, but you almost _killed me_. If it wasn’t for the fact that The Vision can do pretty much _anything_ , I would have died in that fucking Siberian wasteland. _You crushed my arc reactor, Steve_. You remember the arc reactor? The thing that makes sure my heart doesn’t stop beating? The Vision showed up 15 minutes after you left with a replacement, but otherwise I’d be dead, because communication was down in the suit, and without the arc reactor it sure as Hell wasn’t going to be _moving_ anywhere.

“I gave my _life_ to the Avengers, but none of you ever appreciated it. You expected more and more from me, and cursed me for every mistake made, even when the mistakes weren’t solely, or _at all_ , my own.

“I mean, seriously: Can any of you honestly say that you didn’t betray me in the moment when it most mattered?” Tony waited a beat, staring at the shocked faces. “Yeah, no, I didn’t fucking think so.”

And with that as his final word, Tony grabbed an awestruck Loki and pulled him away.

Satisfaction sex? It’s the _best_ sex.

 

* * *

Loki has never been unaware of the limited time they have together. He will live for millennia more, while Tony will live just a few brief decades longer ~~(if he doesn’t die on the field of battle first)~~. Loki doesn’t like to think about it, but it weighs heavily on his mind; the thought that he will soon lose the person who completes him so _perfectly_ , the person he feels certain was destined to be by his side, is a constant worry.

But Loki has a plan, because that is who Loki is: he is a planner, he plays the long game. His moves are always plotted thirty moves in advance of the ten future moves that others can predict. He takes a trip, once, and comes back with a treasure. He doesn’t tell Tony about it, not yet – he needs to know that Tony would accept the gift, that he wouldn’t turn it away. (Loki comes up with a backup plan, too, just in case, though he would prefer to avoid it, if at all possible.)

On their 7-year anniversary, Loki takes Tony to Norway, to the cliffside where he once saved Tony’s life. He sits down beside Tony there, and they stare at the ocean for a while. The weather is chilly, but it’s _Norway_ , so that’s to be expected. They sit close to each other, sharing warmth. Tony waits, patient – he can tell that Loki has been planning something for a while now, and he’s willing to give his Trickster the time he needs to say what he has to.

“I love you.” Loki says the words without looking at Tony, instead gazing off over the sea. His voice doesn’t waver; there are few things he knows with such certainty.

Tony hums and responds, “I love you, too.”

There is a beat of silence, before Loki shifts towards Tony, taking the mortal man’s hands in his own. “Tony, I would be with you always. I would live and fight by your side forever, if only you would let me.”

“I’d let you,” Tony whispers, meeting Loki’s eyes sadly, “But I’m pretty sure forever isn’t really in the cards for me.” His voice breaks on that – the thought of leaving the man he loves alone, to wander through the centuries and millennia without him, pains him, too.

“It could be,” Loki breathes, and extends a golden apple towards Tony.

“What…?”

“Have you ever heard of Idun’s Apples?” Loki doesn’t wait for a reply, but presses on. “The Norse myths said they were the treasures that granted the Gods immortality. They weren’t entirely correct – we do not need them, but when they are given to mortals, those mortals join the Gods.” He squeezed Tony’s hand with his own. “If you would accept it, I would offer you one, so that we may stay together forever.”

Tony stares down at the apple, amazed. He knows what Loki is asking of him – he is asking for eternity. Tony and Loki would live together, for untold numbers of years, but Tony would lose everyone else in his life. The mortals he knew would fade away, would die, while he remained unchanged, while he continued to survive.

Apparently his pause was too long, because Loki’s broken voice interrupts his thoughts. “If you do not want it, I understand. But in that case, _please_ , Tony, do not push me away. I would become mortal for you, if it would mean I could have you. I cannot bear the thought of losing you. If it is the only way to stay beside you, I will give up my magic, my immortality; I will live beside you, and die beside you.”

And that, _that_ , is more than Tony needs, is the exact opposite of what Tony wants. Loki was offering to give up everything, to give up his favorite parts of himself – his gift for magic that had been given to him and nurtured by his mother, the family member Loki had loved more than any other; the powers that had saved his life and the lives of the people around him more times than he probably cared count; the talents that had made him so famous that Tony was certain Loki would be remembered forever in distant corners of the universe; the skills that had given him the name of Trickster, Sky Traveler, Silvertongue, God of Mischief, God of Lies. All of it, Loki would give up _for Tony_. If Tony wasn’t certain of Loki’s love before, he was now.

“I… could never let you do that. I couldn’t allow you to give up so much of yourself. I love you, Loki, and would be with you always.” Tony reached out the hand not being held by the Frost Giant, and took the apple from Loki’s loosened grasp. “Just promise me one thing.”

“ _Anything_.”

“Marry me, Loki.”

Loki laughed and peppered his face with kisses as he ate the apple, whispering, “ _Yes, yes, yes_ …”

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, this was a huge endeavor to write. I was playing with a different style, having the scenes more like snapshots, and not in timeline order. I was also trying to mostly write in present tense, but I don't think it always worked out. 
> 
> Regardless, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed!


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